I want to hold your hand
by CharmsLithe
Summary: Granted, quite a bit more as well. PWP, literally.


Sherlock lays face down on the bed, a book beneath his nose. His eyes are closed, but he is awake. John smiles as he watches him, the slight and unconscious movement of Sherlock's arse seems like an invitation. John licks his lips with a carnivorous interest. He attempts to silently approach Sherlock, quickly climbing onto the bed. He presses his groin into Sherlock's soft backside. John presses his mouth to Sherlock's ear, his nose encompassed by Sherlock's curls. He inhales the detective's smell. He is reminded of fire and dust.

"Sherlock," John whines into his ear. Sherlock turns awkwardly to face him. He's already read this book five times. He comes to the conclusion that he enjoys having his face kissed by John more than he enjoys memorizing this book. John does this exactly, pressing his mouth to Sherlock's cheek bone. Sherlock closes his eyes, hiding their beauty from John momentarily. He opens them and watches John smile. John kisses his brow and grins playfully.

John removes himself from Sherlock, grabbing Sherlock's arse roughly. He slides up the back of Sherlock's tee-shirt, pressing his mouth to the curve of him. Sherlock stretches out beneath his mouth, pressing his face into the bed and inhaling. John sits back up, pulling off Sherlock's shirt with his assistance. John sinks his teeth into Sherlock's shoulder blade; Sherlock hisses beneath him. John slides his tongue across Sherlock's flesh, savoring the taste of him. John slides his hand beneath the offensive cloth of Sherlock's trousers, gripping the perfect flesh beneath it. Sherlock gasps, pressing himself into John's hand. A high sound resonates from Sherlock's mouth, which is pressed into the mattress. John presses his mouth to his boyfriend's neck, kissing the skin and straddling his hips again. John thrusted his hips against Sherlock's softness biting the scruff of his neck. Sherlock hisses, pressing himself up into the soldier.

"_Please_…God, _John_," he whimpers, rubbing himself against John's erection. John holds his hips, rubbing himself into Sherlock with some force. He makes an incredible noise. He ceases, running his nails across the flesh of Sherlock's back.

"Let me have at your mouth," John says, his voice deep as he removes himself from Sherlock who turns over. John spends a long while, kneeled beside his lover, admiring his shape and arousal. The thin cloth of Sherlock's trousers did nothing to hide his cock from John's hungry eyes. Sherlock's abdomen rose and fell with his breath, though never filling in the shadow of his hip bones. The muscles beneath his skin are defined and divine. John lays his hand upon Sherlock's stomach, feeling his hand rise and fall with his boyfriend's breath. He finds this thought simple and gentle. Sherlock was gentler now, move gentle than he'd ever been. He smiles at his love, who grins in return. John presses his mouth to Sherlock's, still feeling him breathe beneath his palm. Their kiss is calm and sweet until John's hand wanders lower on Sherlock's anatomy. As he presses his palm to Sherlock's cock his lips and tongue are bitten. The detective presses himself into the soldier, demanding more. He presses his tongue between thin lips, consuming the other man. John hooks his fingers around Sherlock's trousers and pulls them off roughly, removing himself from their kiss. He admires how vulnerable and perfect Sherlock looks, aroused and nude. John licks his lips, his eyes perfectly predatory. Sherlock is thin and stark white. He is carved out of marble; as though a sculptor had been so cruel as to allow his engorged and begging lover to lay in bed alone.

John stands at the end of the bed. Sherlock sits up to watch him, his frame contorting expertly to watch John. He strips his jumper and shirt quickly, the fading muscle on his chest and stomach looks as delicious as any could. John is smooth, soft, and warm. He is imperfect, scarred, and completely Sherlock's. He stands before Sherlock, appreciating his gaze.

"On your stomach," John seems to sing, a smirk twitching upon his lips before disappearing once more. Sherlock makes a deep sound as he obeys, spreading his legs for John to climb between. He grips his buttocks, his nails digging into Sherlock's flesh gently. Sherlock groans, pressing himself into John's hands. John unbuckles his jeans, pulling them down roughly. He gasps as he presses himself between Sherlock's buttocks. John takes hold of Sherlock's cock, holding him tightly as Sherlock reaches for the bedside table. He manages to retrieve the lubricant and John takes it from him.

John pours some lubricant into his hand and begins stroking himself. He bends down to kiss the soft flesh of Sherlock's arse, biting the flesh gently. He presses his forehead into Sherlock's lower back and groans, his mouth still against Sherlock's flesh. Sherlock curses John loudly.

"Just fuck me, you…" he moans, John jerking him hard as his hand returns to his penis, "fucking beautiful horrible cruel man," Sherlock groans, biting into the sheets. John runs his thumb and forefinger across the shaft of Sherlock's erection. "Please, John, please," Sherlock begs, whimpering and pressing himself against John.

John aligns his cock with Sherlock's entrance, pressing him apart slowly. Sherlock makes some high whining noises as John finally enters him. He slides his hand down to his erection, beginning to stroke himself slowly. He makes unintelligent noises, his breath erratic. John holds tightly to his love, entering him. His heart was attempting to violently excite his body. His love was consuming him, literally. He bites his lower lip, his tongue flicking out to clean his lips of a combination of his and Sherlock's sweat. The warmth of Sherlock over-takes him, he hums for a moment, plunged deep within the man beneath him. John's hand searches for Sherlock's, they clasp them together. The outside of John's hand is pressed into the warmth of Sherlock's palm. The soft gesture makes John's heart jump and he begins to move within Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes flutter closed and he holds John's hand tightly. Sherlock's hips adjust against John and he cries as John presses into his prostate. Within moments of this, Sherlock is shaking and gasping against the sheets as his orgasm wrecks him. He collapses against the sheets as John fucks him faster. John rests his body against Sherlock's back as he comes inside of him. John bites the flesh of Sherlock's shoulder. His hips continue to move as he orgasms, licking and sucking at Sherlock's flesh.

They exchange affirmations of love and lay beside each other, they remain nude, their hands still clasped together.


End file.
